The Second Girl Detective Megapack: 23 Classic Mystery Novels for Girls

by Julia K. Duncan

  As she sank back into the restful depths of a big chair, Doris had an opportunity to study the two sisters.

  Iris and Azalea quite obviously were twins, for they looked alike and they dressed identically. Their voices, too, were similar—low, musical and soft. They looked rather frail and delicate, Doris thought, and their faces were finely chiseled like that of a cameo. They wore simple, long, white cotton dresses. Had it not been for their snow white hair, Doris would not have guessed that they had long since left their youth behind.

  If the girls had been disappointed at their first reception, they no longer had any doubt of their welcome. Azalea and Iris set them at ease by maintaining a pleasant, light conversation. It was apparent to Doris that they were both well educated, though they seemed to take little interest in modern-day topics.

  “I don’t believe they know much about what has been going on in the world for the last ten years,” Doris told herself.

  Before fifteen minutes had elapsed, she found herself quite captivated by the two ladies, and Kitty, too, had forgotten her former uneasiness.

  As the afternoon advanced, the girls found themselves more and more comfortable, looking forward to a pleasant visit.

  “No doubt you wondered why we invited you here,” Iris said after a time, addressing Doris.

  “Well, yes, I did,” she admitted.

  “It’s a long story. Azalea and I—”

  Her voice trailed off as Cora Sully appeared in the doorway.

  “Supper is served,” she announced.

  Iris arose to lead the way to the dining room.

  “The story must wait,” she said with a smile. “I know you girls are far more interested in food just now.”

  “I am a bit hungry,” acknowledged Doris with a pleasant smile, as she and Kitty followed the twins into the next room where Cora was putting the finishing touches to the table.

  Kitty kept close to her chum. Doris caught her eye. In a whisper she heard Kitty ask her about the dog outside, as she motioned toward the food—Kitty wanted Wags to be remembered.

  “Wait!” signalled Doris, as the group took seats about the table.

  But would the dog wait?

  CHAPTER VIII

  A Visitor

  Supper at the mansion was always a rather stiff and formal affair, but on this evening the tension was somewhat relaxed. The Misses Gates chatted pleasantly with the girls, making them feel entirely at their ease.

  The table had been laid with an elaborately embroidered tablecloth, of good quality but slightly yellowed with age. The dishes, the cut glass, and the silver were of the best. Two tall candles in pewter holders lighted the room. Cora Sully, fairly presentable in white cap and apron, brought the food in from the kitchen, but she served it in an indifferent fashion.

  “Cora really is an excellent cook,” Iris said half apologetically, when the woman had returned to the kitchen.

  “Yes, indeed,” Doris agreed quickly.

  She had no fault to find with the supper, for the creamed chicken was delicious, the biscuits light, the salad crisp and fresh. It was only that she had taken a dislike to Cora and wondered why the Misses Gates kept such a slouchy, sullen woman.

  “Mrs. Sully has been with us for some time,” Iris continued. “She was the daughter of our former dressmaker, but she married a man that was no good. Undoubtedly he means well but he is shiftless, and finds it hard to obtain work. We took them both in.”

  “I see,” Doris murmured.

  She scarcely knew what to reply, and Kitty was leaving the burden of the conversation to her.

  Mrs. Sully cleared away the dishes and appeared with the dessert, a steaming rich pudding which she placed before Azalea, who served it upon individual plates.

  “Iris and I seldom indulge ourselves when we are here alone,” Azalea remarked, “but we remember how young girls like sweets.”

  “I’m afraid you have gone to a great deal of trouble on our account,” Doris said.

  “Not at all,” Azalea assured her. “It is a pleasure to have you here. We have so few visitors.”

  It seemed to Doris, who chanced to be watching Mrs. Sully, that an irritated expression passed over her face.

  “She doesn’t like it because we are here,” Doris thought. “Probably thinks we’ll make her more work!”

  She picked up her dessert spoon, but before she could start eating her pudding, there came an unexpected interruption. A loud barking and growling grated upon the ears of the diners.

  Doris and Kitty exchanged guilty glances. It was Wags!

  “Gracious!” Iris murmured. “What can be the matter?”

  Embarrassed, Kitty looked down at her plate.

  “I’m so sorry,” Doris apologized, “but I’m afraid it must be Wags.”

  “Wags?” Azalea asked, a glimmer of amusement in her eyes.

  Doris nodded unhappily.

  “He’s the cutest little brown dog you ever saw—I know you’ll just love him! Kitty and I picked him up on the road this afternoon and brought him along. We didn’t want to leave him out in the storm, so we tied him up under the porch. I don’t know what set him off like that.”

  Before either of the women could reply, Wags again let out a series of savage yelps and Doris heard the sound of a man’s voice. Hastily, she pushed back her chair.

  “I’ll see what is the matter,” she said, excusing herself.

  Hurrying to the door, she opened it and stared straight into the face of the man who had made such a disturbance at the aviation meet! Wags, still securely tied under the porch, had taken exception to the appearance of the stranger and continued to bark excitedly.

  “Be quiet, Wags!” Doris commanded.

  “So that’s your mutt, eh?” the stranger asked unpleasantly. “Vicious dogs shouldn’t be at large!”

  Doris stifled a sharp retort. Now that she saw the man at close range she was more unfavorably impressed than before. He was dressed in a new suit of loud pattern, and carried a cane. His face was hard and cold and his eyes had an unpleasant way of boring into one.

  Before Doris could recover from her surprise, the Misses Gates came rushing into the hall.

  “I thought I recognized your voice,” Iris murmured, self-consciously.

  “We were wondering if you would come tonight,” Azalea added, a tell-tale blush creeping over her pale cheeks.

  The stranger bestowed upon each a smile which to Doris seemed to fairly drip sentiment.

  “Did you think I could stay away from two such charming young ladies?” he asked in a strangely softened voice.

  Kitty, who had followed the Misses Gates into the hall, looked at her chum in disgust. Azalea and Iris saw nothing amiss. One of them took his hat and stick, the other his dripping coat.

  Miss Azalea gazed admiringly at the cane which he bestowed upon her with all the grace of a sleight-of-hand performer.

  “How’s that?” he asked in self-satisfied tones as he twirled the stick jauntily before handing it to the enraptured hostess.

  “Oh, aren’t you clever, Ronald?”

  “Well,” he shrugged his shoulders as if to appear very modest, “they do say I’m a good entertainer.”

  Iris shook the raindrops from his topcoat solicitously and hung it up to dry on the antique coat rack in the corner.

  “You know, I brought that cane over with me from Monte Carlo. That was my lucky day. My side of the argument was right, as usual, so the cane fell to my lot. I told the chap at the Casino how the play of a friend of mine would come out, and of course it came out as I said it would. You understand, ladies, that it was just a friendly little bet, nothing to disturb one’s conscience,” hoping that these last words of his would vindicate any doubts in their minds as to his moral standing. “A friendly little wager,” he concluded, as with a wave of his hand he dismissed the subject entirely.

  For a minute or two they were so excited and flustered that they entirely forgot the presence of the two girls. Recovering he
rself, Azalea turned to introduce them.

  “Doris,” she said, beaming happily, “I am sure this will be a pleasant surprise for you. May I present Ronald Trent, the son of your long-lost uncle?”

  “Pleased to meet ’chu,’” the stranger mumbled.

  Doris managed a perfunctory reply, but she really was too stunned to consider what she was saying. She could not believe that she had heard correctly, and after Kitty had acknowledged the introduction, she turned to Azalea.

  “Did I understand you to say Mr. Trent is a relative of mine?”

  “Sure, your cousin,” the man broke in, before Azalea could answer. “Don’t worry, kid. You and me will hit it off together.”

  Doris could not trust herself to reply. She glanced toward Kitty and saw the puzzled look in her eyes. What must her chum think!

  “That man my cousin!” she thought dismally. “Oh, dear, I wish I hadn’t found it out.”

  “Well, we had a heavy shower, girlies,” boomed the new arrival as he adjusted his glaring tie carefully, “but I found a chummy roadhouse with a big welcome during the heaviest thunder. I certainly enjoy good company.” He smacked his lips thoughtfully.

  Kitty carefully kept her eyes turned away from her embarrassed chum. This was an unexpected turn to events. She was more surprised and worried at meeting this flashy stranger than she cared to have the group know. Reared in a refined and cultured environment, she feared her family might call her away at once, if they should become aware of the fact that such a man as this one were to spend any time in the company of the girls. She pictured the faculty at Barry Manor as being highly shocked and amazed should anybody tell them that these two pupils were spending their vacation in a place where they were obliged to associate with a person of the type of Ronald Trent. Would she have to desert her friend and leave for home on account of the sudden appearance of this relative of Doris?

  Kitty pondered this matter seriously in her mind.

  Doris was equally worried in her own way.

  CHAPTER IX

  A Conversation Overheard

  The Misses Gates escorted Ronald Trent to the living room, forgetting in their excitement that supper had not been finished. Doris and Kitty were too polite to mention that they had not had their dessert.

  “You girlies get prettier every day,” the man gushed, playfully straightening Iris’s lace collar and slyly giving Azalea’s hand a squeeze.

  Iris giggled, and her sister cast down her eyes in confusion. Ronald Trent winked at Doris and Kitty as much as to say: “How easy they fall!”

  Iris and Azalea, unaware that they were appearing in a slightly ridiculous light, continued to beam and to blush, listening intently to every word Ronald Trent said, and laughing at everything which might be remotely interpreted as a joke. Doris was completely disgusted at the way the man was acting, and when he tried to cajole her into a more friendly attitude, she could not hide her indifference. Azalea and Iris did not notice how quiet she was, but Ronald Trent was aware of her attitude and frowned slightly.

  “What’s the matter, girlie?” he teased.

  “Nothing,” Doris returned quietly.

  She felt that if he continued to plague her she surely would disgrace herself by saying something which would offend the Gates sisters. How could they like such a man? He was cheap and coarse and obviously insincere.

  “Poor things,” she told herself. “They haven’t had much attention from men and it flatters them.”

  The tension was somewhat relieved when Iris asked Kitty if she could sing or play the piano.

  “I’m not in the least musical,” Kitty returned, “but Doris sings beautifully.”

  Upon being urged to entertain the group, Doris obediently went to the piano. After looking over the music she selected a familiar piece, struck a few chords, and began to sing. A hush fell over the group, and even Ronald Trent, who was talking to Iris, became quiet.

  “Lovely,” Azalea murmured when she had finished. “You have a wonderful voice.”

  “Pretty keen,” Ronald Trent agreed, “but can’t you sing something livelier? I don’t like them church hymns.”

  “You call those songs church hymns?” Doris asked with an amused smile. “Really, if you want popular music, I can’t oblige you. My teacher permits me to sing only classical.”

  After she had left the piano, Ronald Trent launched into a lengthy tale concerning his recent exploits in South America. In many particulars the story did not hang together, and Doris and Kitty were bored. Iris and Azalea were flattering listeners and, whenever he showed signs of pausing, urged him on with interested questions.

  As Doris listened, doubts began to form in her mind. It seemed incomprehensible that this boasting, crude stranger could really be her cousin. There must be a mistake, she told herself. Ronald Trent was not a relative; of that she felt certain.

  “Well, girlies, isn’t it about time you trundled off to your little beds?” he asked, looking insinuatingly at Doris and Kitty.

  “I imagine you girls are tired,” Azalea murmured. “If you like, I can have Cora show you to your room.”

  “Oh, we’re not sleepy yet,” Kitty said mischievously.

  Ronald Trent fairly glared at her.

  “Run along now,” he said lightly, but with a look which warned the girls he expected to be obeyed. “I have some business to talk over with Iris and Azalea.”

  Iris rang for Cora, and the girls reluctantly followed her upstairs through a long hall and down a number of steps into a wing which branched off to the right. Cora showed them their room and left them alone.

  “Looks as if we’re to be off in this wing all by ourselves,” Kitty said uneasily. “This place is too spooky to suit me.”

  The room was large and austere with long mirrors and an old-fashioned four-poster bed and dresser. Several rag rugs were scattered over the bare floor. Double windows looked down over the side veranda and the branches of a sprawling maple tree brushed against the panes.

  As a precautionary measure Kitty looked under the bed and peeped into the closet.

  “Wasn’t that man terrible?” Doris said, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “And the way he sent us to bed just as though we were infants! Do you think he really could be a cousin of mine?”

  “I don’t see how he could be,” Kitty comforted. “He doesn’t look or act like any of your relatives that I ever saw.”

  “Well, I hope not! Wonder what he wants of Iris and Azalea?”

  “Something he didn’t want us to hear, that’s certain. Say, where is he from, anyway?”

  “Some place about four hundred miles from here—Cloudy Cove, I think he said.”

  “And he drives that far every few days to see Azalea and Iris? It looks fishy to me.”

  “I think so, too,” Doris agreed. “The Misses Gates are lovely ladies—far too good for that loud creature—but at the same time they’re scarcely the type a man would drive four hundred miles to see.”

  “He doesn’t care a whit about them. You can tell that.”

  As they undressed, the girls continued to discuss Ronald Trent and to make disparaging remarks. Then Kitty jumped into bed and Doris put out the light. Snuggling down into the covers, they shivered a bit as the wind rattled the window pane. They could almost imagine that in the pitch dark room someone was slowly creeping toward them.

  “I’d hate to stay here very long,” Kitty whispered. “Folks are so funny. Even Henry and Cora.”

  “I’m eager to find out why they sent for me,” Doris whispered in return. “It looks to me as though there’s something strange going on here.”

  Save for the moaning of the wind, the old house was quiet, and presently the girls heard the front door slam shut.

  “That was my illustrious cousin departing,” Doris murmured.

  A few minutes later they heard two doors close farther down the hall and knew that Azalea and Iris had retired.

  The girls closed their eyes and tried to go to sl
eep, but the brushing of the branches against the windows, and the weird sounds made by the wind, kept them in a state of nervous suspense. Then, just as Doris was dozing off, she heard a low whimpering moan from the yard below.

  “Wags!” she whispered to Kitty.

  “Maybe he’ll stop,” her chum suggested.

  But Wags did not stop. He continued to whimper until the girls were afraid he would disturb the entire household.

  “Poor thing!” Doris sympathized. “He’s out there all alone in a strange place. I’ll bet he’s lonesome.”

  At last, unable to bear it any longer, she slipped out of bed and began to dress.

  “What are you going to do?” Kitty whispered.

  “I’m going to bring him up here for the night.”

  “Cora will just about kill you, if she catches you!”

  “I’ll sneak down so quietly no one will hear me.”

  “I don’t like to stay here alone while you’re gone, Dory. It’s too scarey.”

  “Then come along.”

  “Ugh! It’s too far.”

  Doris had finished dressing and now, without making a light, she moved cautiously toward the door.

  “Don’t be gone long,” Kitty pleaded in a whisper. “If Wags lets out a yelp while you’re bringing him upstairs, we’re sunk!”

  Quietly opening the door, Doris stood and listened. The old mansion was quiet save for the whistling of the wind and the rattling of doors and windows. Hesitating a moment, she noiselessly stole down the hallway. She was not afraid of being heard for she knew Azalea and Iris had rooms in the other wing.

  At the head of the stairway she halted in astonishment. Below her she caught the glimmer of an oil lamp. To her further amazement she saw two men sitting at the table and instantly recognized them as Ronald Trent and Henry Sully!

  Doris’s first impulse was to retreat. Then, realizing that she was standing in the dark and could not be seen, although she could plainly see what the others were about, she was tempted to remain. Instinctively, she had sensed that all was not as it should be. She distinctly remembered hearing Ronald Trent leave the house before the Misses Gates had retired. Why, then, had Henry Sully admitted him again and so quietly that no one had been the wiser?